Some Itches You Have to Scratch

By Desdmona

This story contains sexually explicit scenes.

Damn, this room is hot. I’m sitting on the couch, waiting for you, and it’s like an oven in here. The electric fan is rotating, but I think instead of cooling, it just swirls the air around. When are we going to get that air-conditioner fixed?

I can’t find the remote control. I’d get up and turn the channel, but I don’t even know what I want to watch. So I reckon I’ll just sit here and watch this infomercial. This guy, he has a real tight butt. Not quite as great looking as yours but still pretty fine to look at.

Nice little Lycra shorts, too! Hugging that keister like a starving baby sucking its mother’s tit. That machine he’s trying to load off on people ain’t nearly as interesting as his body. I wonder if I can send three easy payments and get him? I’ll even waive the lifetime guarantee. I don’t want to take him to raise. I just want to raise him, then take him. Ha! Ha! I crack myself up sometimes!

Oh now they have a hot chick selling the machine. Too bad you’re not here; I think you’d like her. Hell, if I was a lesbo, I might do her. She’s got an ass-kicking, flat stomach. I’d be jealous but what’s the use, I am what I am. Besides, my tits are better than hers.

Whew! I wish you’d get home; I’m starting to get horny. All this summer heat, and watching the Bobsy Twins work out makes my skin hot. I hate it when my hair sticks to the back of my neck like this. Sweat is dripping between my tits like the Ohio River making its way through the Appalachians. I’m going to have to take this damn shirt off.

Might as well get rid of these shorts to. I hope the neighbors can’t see in the sliding glass doors leading into the trailer porch, with me sitting here in nothing but my panties and bra. That old, nasty Mr. Peacock’s been sniffing around after me since we moved in. He’s probably standing outside his trailer right now, smoking an old stogie, trying to peek in. He knows you’re not here, ‘cause your truck ain’t out front.

What the heck, I can give him a cheap thrill. I bet his wanger is limper than a dead earthworm, lying on the sidewalk after a big rain. Probably hasn’t gotten it up in ten years. Of course if I was married to that woman he is, I might go peeping in windows too.

It’s not much cooler without the shirt and shorts. I think I’ll grab a beer. It feels kind of nasty walking into the kitchen half naked. I like it. The cool air from the frigerator sure feels good! Oh look, my nipples are poking against my bra like hard little ice chips. If you were here, you could suck them and make them melt.

I reckon I’ll have to squeeze them a little to keep them standing up until you get here. It’s hard to get a good grip on the tips though, with this satin bra. It’s like trying to catch a pea with a fork; they’re just too dang slippery. Besides, I’ve had this bra on all day. It’s starting to dig into my back, and who knows when you’re going to get back; I might as well take it off and get comfy.

Oh, yeah! My tits are much better than the T.V. chick’s. I know you like them; you call them perfect little apples. Not too big, not too small, just right for your hands. The skin around the pink part is smooth as a baby’s butt. And pale as Casper. And you love all those veins, the way they trickle down to the nipple. Just like roadmaps leading to buried treasure, you said.

This heat makes it hard for my nipples to stay stiff. Of course, I like it when my nipples are all soft and big, that’s when they’re the most sensitive. Sometimes, its fun to put my fingers on either side of my nipple, make a triangle around it, and pull out, just to see how far it stretches. Then I can diddle with the tip again and watch it contract real small. Just the opposite of your penis, huh? If I diddle with the tip of it, it gets big and red like one of those Ball Park franks that plump when you cook them.

I like sitting here with just my panties on, makes me feel kind of like a model in Playboy magazine. The curtains around the window look like a picture frame. And I’m the centerfold. If I stood up right now and bent over, I’d really give Peacock a thrill. My panties are stuck up in the crack of my ass, sort of a makeshift thong.

I’m starting to feel all itchy. Makes me want to scratch what itches. There’s a wet spot on the outside of my panties. If I open my legs the fan sort of blows on it and makes it cool. I want to ask Bill Nye the Science Guy how things can be cool and hot at the same time. I doubt if he can answer a question of a sexual nature though, that would probably get his bowels in an uproar.

Oh. God, when are you going to get home? I’m really getting antsy. I took the elastic edges of my underwear and slipped it between my slit. My pussy lips are bulging out on each side like swelled up balloons about to pop. The material is kind of rough but feels just right stroking against my clitty. I can yank on the front and it rubs from front to back, teasing every hole I got.

Oh man, I can lift my hips and do a little seesaw dance, up and down and up and down. My titties jiggle when I do. The elastic is touching right on the little man in the boat. Who needs a rowing machine? This is better than any infomercial, I can tell you that. I’m really working up a sweat. It’s so blasted hot. I’m burning up.

Hey, Mr. Peacock, you see this? I bet you like seeing me humping my panties, don’t you? I bet your little pea-cock hasn’t been this happy in years.

I sure could use a thick, slippery dick inside me about now, pounding me deep. Stretching me out good, maybe a little nipple pinching to boot. Ooh, it smells like pussy in here. Damn, I’m getting so wet my panties are soaked. The smell is just hanging in the air like fog in the valley.

Whoa, I’m going to freaking cum; you’re not here and I’m going to cum. It just snuck up on me, like a kitty on the prowl, only my pussy ain’t prowling, it’s purring.